Today was supposed to be a good day and when all was said and done it ended that way.
Woke up to rain that quickly and I do indeed mean QUICKLY turned to snow. I am up without fail very close to 5am as a rule, and by 6 it was snowing. By 6:30 the satellite dish transponder was covered with snow, so
Up on the rooftop
Click, click, click
Down thru the chimney with
Good Saint Nick went I...
But unlike Good Saint Nick nearly slid my way back down again. Our woodstove chimney was the only thing that kept me up there.
AND today of all days the Danby Rd Llama Girls were to finally leave their horse stall life for the past 3 plus weeks to a foster home.
Well by 7am there was 4" of snow on the ground with no real indication of letting up. By 10:30 the temperatures were moderating and it had stopped snowing and changed to rain.
Grabbed Chloe, hooked up the horse trailer and down the road we went to re-locate the Danby girls to their new for now and probably knock wood forever home.
Below find them discovering their new digs. They have a bit more than 4 acres to romp on, and I do wish that I had taken my video camera with me to share with you their excitment over being out in the open for the first time in 3 plus weeks! ALL of them spent 20 minutes or more exploring the fence line, then just started jumping and snorting and pronking with the spirit and magic that only those who have watched or own llamas can knowing and cherish. Their new care giver was attentive to every answer to every question she asked and she asked ALL the right questions. Their shelter is a touch smaller than might be 'perfect', but it is solid, built against the weather and will accomodate all 4. We talked about the roughened concrete floor and the need for deep bedding preferably straw, and she immediately went and got 2 bales of HAY to put down because "I don't have any straw right now, and something is better than nothing".
It soften the edges a bit for me, and I know for Chloe over losing Sunny yesterday. This woman knows nothing about llamas, has never owned or interacted with them, but her heart and soul is in the right place and she has all the tools and basic skills to get them healthier than they are now, and wants to learn.
I will take that for now.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
How hard the soul
LW Someone Wonderful
Born September 15 1993, died March 14 2009..... at my hands.
And what was left of my soul passed with her passing and the act I committed.
Her favorite phrase during her last days with us was 'SCRATCHES'. With that word she simply stood and waited for every inch of her to be scratched and rubbed as the tickle reflex kicked in and she lipped in shear joy and relief from the pain the cancer was causing.
I have been angry and grief stricken in the past as the llamas have come and gone, and now there is nothing left but numb, down to the deepest place the soul should reside.
And now, I suppose I am in mourning for myself and for the death, I fear, of my soul.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Llamas need love, too - Sacramento News - Local and Breaking Sacramento News | Sacramento Bee
Llamas need love, too - Sacramento News - Local and Breaking Sacramento News | Sacramento Bee
Posted using ShareThis
There isn't really much tos ay about a set of articles like this other than the power and compassion of local people helping locally can and always does have endings that make you smile. Read both postings. Here's the happy ending.
Posted using ShareThis
There isn't really much tos ay about a set of articles like this other than the power and compassion of local people helping locally can and always does have endings that make you smile. Read both postings. Here's the happy ending.
Llama Rescuers
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So answer me this riddle dear reader, are people who rescue llamas heroes--- or fools? And of course, when you look at the picture above or any of the thousands upon thousands of pictures of any abused animal splashed across the news media, and the Internet the answer would seem simple. OF COURSE THEY ARE HEROES!
As you read this, there is anger and angst and frustration and penetrating accusations that will no doubt get me into trouble should anyone from the greater llama community be one of the few if any readers who stumble on my blog, but at this moment I truly do not care. Llama rescue should be a part of every llama breeders committement to the animals they make money from... it just isn't.
Since I have only my experiences with llama rescue to fall back on, I will look at how THAT WORLD has moved in a direction that for me has crossed the fail-safe line. Though actually my involvement with llamas only is not completely true; many of my most recent legal encounters with animal rescue and legal impounds has also included sheep, goats, and horses. No I don't have direct involvement with those animals when they have been seized, but act collaboratively with several formal animal rescue organizations that do. Most common of those is Hooved Animal Rescue of Thurston County [Washington]
I'm the llama guy in that group who is supposed to be able to pull a rabbit out of my hat and find foster homes and eventually adoptive homes for the animals that have been seized. Sometimes you get lucky and the person who used to own the llama actually takes THEM BACK. Once, just once this has happened to me. Bolivian Legend K was taken back by its owner, Hola died after fighting for 45 days to stay alive. The owner was convicted of first degree animal cruelty.
I wander from the point, but here it is in its most raw and unfortunate truth. And just to make the point yes I will use ALL CAPS.
IF YOU ARE AN ANIMAL BREEDER OR JUST A LLAMA OWNER WHO BELIEVES A COMPONENT OF BREEDING OR JUST OWNING LLAMAS IS ALSO RESCUING, THEN BE PREPARED TO BE INUNDATED AND EXPECTED TO CLEAN UP EVERY ONE'S MESSES. BE PREPARED ALSO TO BE LABELLED AS THE PERSON WHO 'DOES RESCUE'.
And if that sounds bitter and angry and resentful, then yes I am bitter and angry and resentful. I resent the fact that a recent article in the Sacramento Bee contacted a well known California llama breeder and among her comments included the fact that she 'doesn't do rescue', she refers people to me. Like I am supposed to solve a problem more than 600 miles away with a wave of a magic wand. But if you read a few other cross link posts I made recently, the local newspaper with help from some people who cared and don't even own llamas did solve!
Once upon a time, people with compassion would step up and take in a llama or two or three, until they were full up, while others would offer financial assistance to real non profit groups and organizations to help. From there it evolved into a world of hand wringing and comments like 'how awful' and 'good for you'. And NOW at least in my limited world, people don't even comment. The whys of it I am sure are as varied as the people who know but have chosen to do nothing, and the economic crisis WE ALL FACE, myself included, certainly is not helping things, but... these animals are not at fault. They just need and want a place to live out their lives with little if any expectations from the humans who only need to provide the most basic minimum of care.
Not all that long ago there was a small group of llamas that were living in less than desirable situation, though the legal authorities would not take any action. The woman who was interested in trying to find new homes for them, though a bit overly aggressive about her methods, was sincere and caring and correct; these animals did not need to live the way they were living and were in fact very much at risk.
Two, count them TWO very, very well known llama owners, breeders, exhibitors and activists in promoting llamas in the Pacific Northwest found the perfect solution for them. They told her to BUY THEM, THEN TRANSPORT THEM AND WE WILL SHOOT THEM!! She fortunately ignored that option, but just barely, and now by the end of this month all of them will have the opportunity to live out their lives homes in Montana. The theory from the two genocide oriented "Rescue Advocates", and I use that term lightly and with great disdain, was these are just throw away llamas and contribute nothing to the 'greater good' of llamas.
But what a great solution. Just think, I could walk out into my pasture right now and with little to no expense of any kind, I could reduce the animals living with me by half. All I would have to do is dig a huge hole and SHOOT 15 llamas. It would reduce my hay and feed bill by more than half, I wouldn't have to worry about the issues of shelter, and vet bills, and shearing time, and toe trimming. I would have more time to play and enjoy the llamas we have bred and bought. My back wouldn't hurt as much daily, my knees and shoulders wouldn't ache constantly from the torn tendons and ligaments repaired in all the joints, and because I wouldn't be doing rescue anymore, wouldn't get the phone calls while working, turning my day from a simple 10 hour work day to a 16 plus day helping to round up llamas standing knee deep in mud next to sheep with lungworms and rotting feet. I wouldn't be getting the call in the middle of the night from the Sheriff department about a llama running loose in the street and could I come help them round them up.
ALL IN ALL MY LIFE WOULD BE SIMPLER.
The most recent large animal seizure in Thurston County was shown on KOMO TV
And on KIRO TV
The video footage barely touches on the horrid conditions the sheep were in. The goats were not much better, and the llamas definitely show the impact of their prolonged neglect.
BUT ALL OF THE LIVING SHEEP AND GOATS NEEDING FOSTER HOMES DURING THE FIRST ROUND OF SEIZURES HAD FOSTER HOMES WITHIN DAYS OF THE IMPOUND.
And the llama community has turned their heads and wrung their hands and the 4 llamas are still living in two horse stalls more than 2 weeks later. They have been triaged diligently, and some folks from the sheep and goat world have offered to take them in as foster and eventual adoptive llamas, but even they haven't followed through.
So on March 12, 2009 unless the owner of these animals either petitions the court for return of the animals, or posts what is often called a 'care bond', these animals will automatically be forfeited and will be available for adoption OR CAN BE EUTHANIZED. I have not known that to happen, but there is absolutely nothing to prevent it short of someone, anyone with a little land, some good fencing, and a willingness to foster these animals from stepping up and taking them in.
I don't expect that anything I do will stop the wave of llama rescue that has overwhelmed the rapidly shrinking base of people willing to help. I don't expect more people to step up, and heaven knows I don't expect any llama association on a national or local level to take an active and agressive approach to llama rescue; ask them and they will tell you in almost one voice 'its not our job'. There is one organization, solid, strong and I am proud to say am a part of that does have a component of its organization that looks at TRYING to best of its ability to help with llama rescue. The Llama Association of North America has a committee called Lama Lifeline I am the prime initial contact point for Lifeline, and will continue to be for now.
But I digress again. For now, these four girls waiting in horse stalls for their final fate only one of whom actually has a name that we know of will continue to wait without a thought or care in the world other than to stay alive. Oh by the way, the llama with a name is Gerry Blossom, the appy faced girl in the slideshow. Her partner in the stall is confirmed to be her daughter, and I have no clue who the other two are; for now they just have numbers on a chart being used to follow their care processes.
Regardless of the outcome for these 4 girls, I will follow through on them. IF someone, anyone steps up to add their gentle caring loving nature to their lives I will trim their toes for free, shear them for free, and guide and coach the new owners for as long as they want on care, and handling.
And if their lives are cut short because no one wants to care for them, I will hold their heads in my lap as they are put to death should it come to that...then I too will be done with llama rescue. It will be too much. I have held way too many llamas in my lap that have died or been euthanized because of real quality of life issues to watch perfectly healthy and happy animals be destroyed because they are just one more mouth to feed.
So answer me this riddle dear reader should there be any, are llama rescuers heroes or fools.....
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Eagle Economics
Bald Eagles are truly incredible and magnificent creatures. Obviously not the same as llamas but they are in the same class of brilliance, dedication to each other, and an obvious passion and enjoyment of their own existence.
The economy being what it is, you take work when and where it is. So for the past two months I have been working as a road construction flagger just outside of Bremerton Washington in this weird little 'Bermuda Triangle' of Gorst [yes its spelled correctly], Port Orchard, and Bremerton. It's a quiet neighborhood area and the traffic is relatively light with all same people coming and going several times during the day. They stop to chat occasionally, and one of the more obviously affluent and dare I say arrogant to the extreme women that come by daily actually asked me if I liked being a flagger in a tone that came across as usual for her as if I was something she would scrape off the bottom of her 200 dollar shoes. And so the answer was a somewhat less than polite "not only no, but [explective of your choice] no."
View Larger Map
Now you really want to zoom in on a larger map and look closely at where Anderson Hill Rd literally drops into and off of SR16. That's where we have been working for past three weeks from there UP the hill towards Hansen Rd. No big deal and it doesn't give you a good idea of what's going on, but its a sewer installation job down the middle of the road.
ANYWAY, when you look at the map at the intersection of Cook Rd and Anderson Hill Rd you will see a HUGE looking lawn with nothing on it at all. To the left of that field you will see a row of trees leading away from the highway.
AND SMACK IN THE MIDDLE of that row of trees is a multi trunked 250 foot plus tall Douglas fir tree with an eagles nest in it. Bert and Ernie live up there, and yes I know they are a pair, but that's my names for them so live with it.
What you need to know about Bremerton Washington is that its claim to fame is its naval shipyard with all sorts of aircraft carriers and other Navy ships on site regularly. From their vantage point, the eagles have a clear and constant line of sight view of every ship docked or moored or coming or going. Now I suppose I could make all sorts of metaphorical references to the presence of eagles overlooking the ships, and how they act as a symbol of the freedom and protection our military provides every American citizen. But guess what folks.... the eagles don't care.
They have their own world of economics, loyalty and survival. I have watched them now for more than two months and their routines are incredible and efficient. EVERY morning, one of them flies out of the nest on to the very top of the tree and hangs out looking across the bay, then up the hill to the house with all the chickens, and even eyeballs the wayward cats that wander around all day long. No there will be no graphic tales here.
I have watched them greet what must have been last years offspring with a mixture of recognition and rejection, clearly showing and stating that yes you WERE ours, but now you are on your own, its time for another hatching. I have watched them PLAY, literally in mid air, swooping and diving around and at each other. And I got to watch them breed several weeks ago first in mid air, then finishing I suppose what they started rather quickly high in the top of nearby tree.
I have watched them fly circles around the alder and fir trees for several minutes looking carefully for just the right branch or limb that they needed for reasons only known to them, then dive into the trees, grab it with their talons and swoop it off into their nest to add to it. It is quite something to see an eagle with a limb in its talon flying across that open field area. Many of those limbs are what most of us might call kindling firewood, they are that big. And its obviously not just a random grabbing. It's orchestrated. One will land with the limb, and the other one, soars off almost at the exact same time to go get something else to add to the nest. During the low tides, they swoop down into the bay and pluck up grasses to add to the nest.
I have watched them violently defend their nest and territory against a wayward great horned owl. That was an amazing thing to see and hear. Just like a llama alarm call I heard this noise that was not something you could confuse with anything but an alarm... AND I WEAR EARPLUGS on the job. As I looked up there was the owl flying by looking for a place to land. And out of absolutely no where the second eagle came flying in, wings partially folded at break neck speed heading straight for the owl. The other eagle flew out of the nest and perched up on the top of the tree and they literally took turns tag teaming this poor owl. As soon as it would dodge one eagle, the other would swoop down at it in the same break neck dive, while the first recovered from its dive and perched screaming on the top of the tree. And this went on for almost 15 minutes as they chased this owl off to a distance of more than a mile that I could see.
But it was orchestrated, it was choreographed and it was efficient. Like the llamas I love and adore, they have a bond that even from the distance offered to us is clear and evident and they will fight to survive not for some high minded sense of morality but for the sake of life and survival itself. And it doesn't come from complicated moral values or issues of freedom or equality or justice; it just is their raison d'être.
So what's the lesson to be learned? There unfortunately is none. We humans are faced in this country and the world with an economic crisis some liken to the panic of the 1970's while still others the Great Depression. Take your pick, it really doesn't matter, things are bad, real bad and will get worse. The bottom line for us puny humans in the trenches is much like my two eagles; the need to focus on survival has become of paramount importance.
But unlike the eagles, whose lives seem to have point and focus and pattern and comfort of sorts, we have created a life as humans that have made almost every aspect of survival as we know it totally and completely dependent on a complicated woven pattern of a magnitude and scope that makes even the simplest thing like the computer or cell phone or pda you are reading this on over and above anything related to survival, but WE think it is.
And that is our downfall.
Speed of progression to the precipice of collapse is being measured in terms that when all is said and done has nothing to do with the basics of survival, but again WE think it is.
Bert and Ernie, my eagles, will continue building their nest, and will eventually lay one or two eggs and I will be long gone and off to some other grand adventure standing in the middle of the road flipping a sign to stay one step ahead of all the people who stand in line with their hands out for money. They won't care if unemployment is 4% or 14% or 40%; it doesn't matter to their lives. They won't care if the Dow Jones industrial average is 6000 or 60000; it doesn't matter to their lives.
But for now, I watch my eagles and envy the simplicity of their lives. I have no pretense that their existence is hard, it is in fact much harder than mine in many aspects down to the most fundamental core of living or dying on any given day, but their methodology, their processes, and their way of dealing with their existence leaves much to be envied.
And I do.
The economy being what it is, you take work when and where it is. So for the past two months I have been working as a road construction flagger just outside of Bremerton Washington in this weird little 'Bermuda Triangle' of Gorst [yes its spelled correctly], Port Orchard, and Bremerton. It's a quiet neighborhood area and the traffic is relatively light with all same people coming and going several times during the day. They stop to chat occasionally, and one of the more obviously affluent and dare I say arrogant to the extreme women that come by daily actually asked me if I liked being a flagger in a tone that came across as usual for her as if I was something she would scrape off the bottom of her 200 dollar shoes. And so the answer was a somewhat less than polite "not only no, but [explective of your choice] no."
View Larger Map
Now you really want to zoom in on a larger map and look closely at where Anderson Hill Rd literally drops into and off of SR16. That's where we have been working for past three weeks from there UP the hill towards Hansen Rd. No big deal and it doesn't give you a good idea of what's going on, but its a sewer installation job down the middle of the road.
ANYWAY, when you look at the map at the intersection of Cook Rd and Anderson Hill Rd you will see a HUGE looking lawn with nothing on it at all. To the left of that field you will see a row of trees leading away from the highway.
AND SMACK IN THE MIDDLE of that row of trees is a multi trunked 250 foot plus tall Douglas fir tree with an eagles nest in it. Bert and Ernie live up there, and yes I know they are a pair, but that's my names for them so live with it.
What you need to know about Bremerton Washington is that its claim to fame is its naval shipyard with all sorts of aircraft carriers and other Navy ships on site regularly. From their vantage point, the eagles have a clear and constant line of sight view of every ship docked or moored or coming or going. Now I suppose I could make all sorts of metaphorical references to the presence of eagles overlooking the ships, and how they act as a symbol of the freedom and protection our military provides every American citizen. But guess what folks.... the eagles don't care.
They have their own world of economics, loyalty and survival. I have watched them now for more than two months and their routines are incredible and efficient. EVERY morning, one of them flies out of the nest on to the very top of the tree and hangs out looking across the bay, then up the hill to the house with all the chickens, and even eyeballs the wayward cats that wander around all day long. No there will be no graphic tales here.
I have watched them greet what must have been last years offspring with a mixture of recognition and rejection, clearly showing and stating that yes you WERE ours, but now you are on your own, its time for another hatching. I have watched them PLAY, literally in mid air, swooping and diving around and at each other. And I got to watch them breed several weeks ago first in mid air, then finishing I suppose what they started rather quickly high in the top of nearby tree.
I have watched them fly circles around the alder and fir trees for several minutes looking carefully for just the right branch or limb that they needed for reasons only known to them, then dive into the trees, grab it with their talons and swoop it off into their nest to add to it. It is quite something to see an eagle with a limb in its talon flying across that open field area. Many of those limbs are what most of us might call kindling firewood, they are that big. And its obviously not just a random grabbing. It's orchestrated. One will land with the limb, and the other one, soars off almost at the exact same time to go get something else to add to the nest. During the low tides, they swoop down into the bay and pluck up grasses to add to the nest.
I have watched them violently defend their nest and territory against a wayward great horned owl. That was an amazing thing to see and hear. Just like a llama alarm call I heard this noise that was not something you could confuse with anything but an alarm... AND I WEAR EARPLUGS on the job. As I looked up there was the owl flying by looking for a place to land. And out of absolutely no where the second eagle came flying in, wings partially folded at break neck speed heading straight for the owl. The other eagle flew out of the nest and perched up on the top of the tree and they literally took turns tag teaming this poor owl. As soon as it would dodge one eagle, the other would swoop down at it in the same break neck dive, while the first recovered from its dive and perched screaming on the top of the tree. And this went on for almost 15 minutes as they chased this owl off to a distance of more than a mile that I could see.
But it was orchestrated, it was choreographed and it was efficient. Like the llamas I love and adore, they have a bond that even from the distance offered to us is clear and evident and they will fight to survive not for some high minded sense of morality but for the sake of life and survival itself. And it doesn't come from complicated moral values or issues of freedom or equality or justice; it just is their raison d'être.
So what's the lesson to be learned? There unfortunately is none. We humans are faced in this country and the world with an economic crisis some liken to the panic of the 1970's while still others the Great Depression. Take your pick, it really doesn't matter, things are bad, real bad and will get worse. The bottom line for us puny humans in the trenches is much like my two eagles; the need to focus on survival has become of paramount importance.
But unlike the eagles, whose lives seem to have point and focus and pattern and comfort of sorts, we have created a life as humans that have made almost every aspect of survival as we know it totally and completely dependent on a complicated woven pattern of a magnitude and scope that makes even the simplest thing like the computer or cell phone or pda you are reading this on over and above anything related to survival, but WE think it is.
And that is our downfall.
Speed of progression to the precipice of collapse is being measured in terms that when all is said and done has nothing to do with the basics of survival, but again WE think it is.
Bert and Ernie, my eagles, will continue building their nest, and will eventually lay one or two eggs and I will be long gone and off to some other grand adventure standing in the middle of the road flipping a sign to stay one step ahead of all the people who stand in line with their hands out for money. They won't care if unemployment is 4% or 14% or 40%; it doesn't matter to their lives. They won't care if the Dow Jones industrial average is 6000 or 60000; it doesn't matter to their lives.
But for now, I watch my eagles and envy the simplicity of their lives. I have no pretense that their existence is hard, it is in fact much harder than mine in many aspects down to the most fundamental core of living or dying on any given day, but their methodology, their processes, and their way of dealing with their existence leaves much to be envied.
And I do.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Bailout Help for the Less Fortunate
In this time of economic disaster facing everyone at all levels of our country it is important above all else to attempt to maintain a sense of humor. SO.... with tongue planted FIRMLY IN CHEEK I submit for your perusal:
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Llamas in the Winter Snows 2008
Well when you sit around in a place like Olympia Washington and all it does for 5 days is get bone chilling cold by our standards and just keeps on snowing, you might as well take out the camera and have a little fun.
So of course that's exactly what I did, and Chloe did, and some of our friends did, and bingo, llamas in the winter snow slide show. It's been a bumpy ride for us Western Washingtonians who have 42 different kinds of rain, but call snow just SNOW and panic at the thought. They tell us that potentially it will get significantly worse before it gets better with increasing winds that may make the wind storm from a few years back look tame. I REALLY hope they are wrong. Lots of mixed messages on the weather right now, so we just prepare for the worst and hope and pray they are all wrong. They've been wrong before, but lately they are right more often than not. And in this case that's not a good thing!!!!
So of course that's exactly what I did, and Chloe did, and some of our friends did, and bingo, llamas in the winter snow slide show. It's been a bumpy ride for us Western Washingtonians who have 42 different kinds of rain, but call snow just SNOW and panic at the thought. They tell us that potentially it will get significantly worse before it gets better with increasing winds that may make the wind storm from a few years back look tame. I REALLY hope they are wrong. Lots of mixed messages on the weather right now, so we just prepare for the worst and hope and pray they are all wrong. They've been wrong before, but lately they are right more often than not. And in this case that's not a good thing!!!!
Monday, November 24, 2008
JUST NO TIME TO WAIT
http://www.millerfarms.net/us/specialevents.html
And what actually happened was overwhelming, poignant and more than just a bit scary:
http://www.millerfarms.net/us/specialevents.html
An estimated 40,000 people showed up and 600,000 lbs of food were picked clean in one day forcing the farm to essentially cancel the Sunday event.
There has been a frenzy of talk about bank bailouts, the stock market issues, but an almost peripheral focus on PEOPLE being impacted.
You see a blip here and there about the banker walking parts of downtown NY with his resume on a billboard, and of course LOTS of news about unemployment RATES, and foreclosure RATES, but rates aren’t people.
Gets spooky when you read stuff like this. And we aren’t talking about a fancy food give-away, we talking spuds, carrots, onions and leeks.
The farm owners decided to do this “…after hearing reports of food being stolen from local churches and it was meant as a thank you for customers.” [AP November 23].
Sorry but it shakes me up more than just a little when you hear about stuff like this.
This summer I offered our surplus blackberries for free picking to folks who wanted to treat their kids to some fresh fruit but couldn’t. There are acres of land behind and along-side us loaded with blackberries. I posted it on a local ‘freecycle’ list no strings attached just asking that the people who contacted me REALLY need that. I had over 100 families contact me and literally it too was picked clean. I wound up taking the tractor out and mowing paths through the brambles to keep access available.
I have no idea where we as a country are heading as the economy does what it is doing, but when you hear things like ‘When he takes office, President Elect Obama will come out swinging because there is no time to wait’, I keep struggling with one HUGE question.
IF there is no time to wait, WHY is Congress and all the people who are STILL IN CHARGE of running this country, willing to continue to let the American people in a very, very, very real micro sense wait and watch their individual worlds deteriorate faster than they can adjust? It is an obscenity.
I made the mistake of reading a news article about a comparison to unemployment issues in the GREAT DEPRESSION vs what is projected to be a bottom line before anything even begins to turn a corner in this country now. Unemployment reached an estimated 25% during the depression, and it is suggested by some that it will hit ONLY 8-10% before things settle out. So lets do the math just for perspective. Estimate population in 1929 in this country was about 122 million people. 25% is 30.5 MILLION people. Current population estimates place us at over 305 million people. SO….10% is still TA-DA 30.5 MILLION people.
YABUTT that still means lots of people are working so it’s not that bad. UNLESS you happen to be one of those who aren’t, unless you happen to be the child of one of those out of work, unless you happen to be the wife or husband of one of those out of work. Unless you are trying to figure out just how tomorrow’s bills will be paid, unless you are looking at the gallon of milk in the fridge half empty and there is no half full, half empty philosophy- the damned thing is half-empty and it will run out.
There just is NO TIME TO WAIT. I am not a political creature by nature, but its beyond obvious that the next Administration and the NEXT Congress in both houses are going to wait. They have announced PUBLICLY and PROUDLY that on January 21 PRESIDENT Obama and his cabinet and staff WILL announce a major, dramatic, overwhelming and decisive attack on the economic turmoil slamming this country.
I am also not an economist, but the time left between now and then [January 21] is about the same amount of time it took the entire banking, stock market, unemployment, and auto industry crisis to unravel. THERE IS NO TIME TO WAIT.
The people who own Miller Farm knew that, the people who run food banks, and staff unemployment and job search offices know that, so why is our governmental leadership so willing to continue to let PEOPLE continue to try and struggle just to make it to tomorrow?
Ah yea, one last thought before ending this diatribe. Retailers, big, small and everyone in the middle live and die based on what happens in their sales revenues between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Well that happens long before January 21. Anyone want to bet on the outcome?
But will it work?
Not about llamas.
And what actually happened was overwhelming, poignant and more than just a bit scary:
http://www.millerfarms.net/us/specialevents.html
An estimated 40,000 people showed up and 600,000 lbs of food were picked clean in one day forcing the farm to essentially cancel the Sunday event.
There has been a frenzy of talk about bank bailouts, the stock market issues, but an almost peripheral focus on PEOPLE being impacted.
You see a blip here and there about the banker walking parts of downtown NY with his resume on a billboard, and of course LOTS of news about unemployment RATES, and foreclosure RATES, but rates aren’t people.
Gets spooky when you read stuff like this. And we aren’t talking about a fancy food give-away, we talking spuds, carrots, onions and leeks.
The farm owners decided to do this “…after hearing reports of food being stolen from local churches and it was meant as a thank you for customers.” [AP November 23].
Sorry but it shakes me up more than just a little when you hear about stuff like this.
This summer I offered our surplus blackberries for free picking to folks who wanted to treat their kids to some fresh fruit but couldn’t. There are acres of land behind and along-side us loaded with blackberries. I posted it on a local ‘freecycle’ list no strings attached just asking that the people who contacted me REALLY need that. I had over 100 families contact me and literally it too was picked clean. I wound up taking the tractor out and mowing paths through the brambles to keep access available.
I have no idea where we as a country are heading as the economy does what it is doing, but when you hear things like ‘When he takes office, President Elect Obama will come out swinging because there is no time to wait’, I keep struggling with one HUGE question.
IF there is no time to wait, WHY is Congress and all the people who are STILL IN CHARGE of running this country, willing to continue to let the American people in a very, very, very real micro sense wait and watch their individual worlds deteriorate faster than they can adjust? It is an obscenity.
I made the mistake of reading a news article about a comparison to unemployment issues in the GREAT DEPRESSION vs what is projected to be a bottom line before anything even begins to turn a corner in this country now. Unemployment reached an estimated 25% during the depression, and it is suggested by some that it will hit ONLY 8-10% before things settle out. So lets do the math just for perspective. Estimate population in 1929 in this country was about 122 million people. 25% is 30.5 MILLION people. Current population estimates place us at over 305 million people. SO….10% is still TA-DA 30.5 MILLION people.
YABUTT that still means lots of people are working so it’s not that bad. UNLESS you happen to be one of those who aren’t, unless you happen to be the child of one of those out of work, unless you happen to be the wife or husband of one of those out of work. Unless you are trying to figure out just how tomorrow’s bills will be paid, unless you are looking at the gallon of milk in the fridge half empty and there is no half full, half empty philosophy- the damned thing is half-empty and it will run out.
There just is NO TIME TO WAIT. I am not a political creature by nature, but its beyond obvious that the next Administration and the NEXT Congress in both houses are going to wait. They have announced PUBLICLY and PROUDLY that on January 21 PRESIDENT Obama and his cabinet and staff WILL announce a major, dramatic, overwhelming and decisive attack on the economic turmoil slamming this country.
I am also not an economist, but the time left between now and then [January 21] is about the same amount of time it took the entire banking, stock market, unemployment, and auto industry crisis to unravel. THERE IS NO TIME TO WAIT.
The people who own Miller Farm knew that, the people who run food banks, and staff unemployment and job search offices know that, so why is our governmental leadership so willing to continue to let PEOPLE continue to try and struggle just to make it to tomorrow?
Ah yea, one last thought before ending this diatribe. Retailers, big, small and everyone in the middle live and die based on what happens in their sales revenues between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Well that happens long before January 21. Anyone want to bet on the outcome?
But will it work?
Not about llamas.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Yes Virginia there IS a Santa Claus
I have no clue why this grabbed me, and it of course has nothing to do with llamas, but the season is swirling about us, and this year may be the one where the meaning of simplicity in life will require focus of celebration. So without further comment, the original text of the original story of Virginia and Santa Claus. Yes I know TWO posts on the same day, amazing eh?
Yes, Virginia, There is a Santa Claus
By Francis P. Church, first published in The New York Sun in 1897. [See The People’s Almanac, pp. 1358–9.]
By Francis P. Church, first published in The New York Sun in 1897. [See The People’s Almanac, pp. 1358–9.]
We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun:
Dear Editor—
I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, “If you see it in The Sun, it’s so.” Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
Virginia O’Hanlon
Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Llamas NOT for Obama or McCain or Anyone Else Apparently
Everybody it seems does a llamas obama blog mostly I suppose because it just rolls off your tongue. We own llamas, and now we will indeed have a President named Obama, so what better way to share with you what our LLAMAS think about the world of politics as it stands to date.
As you know from my last posting I am commuting of late and have had very little time to much of anything with the llamas the past two weeks.
I leave in the dark and get home in dark with just enough time to go to bed.
BUT.....
On election day I was home relatively early and got to see both speeches
by the major candidates as the results made it clear that Sen Obama was going to be our next President of the United States.
Full video John McCain
Full video Barack Obama
Both speeches were full of powerful emotions and recognized fully the intensity and potential catastrophic impacts the issues facing our nation are and will have on all our lives. I was impressed with Senator McCain's comments, and quite overwhelmed by now President Elect Obama's recognition of the power of the moment, its implications, and the uphill struggle this country will face in the months and years ahead. The single most overlooked phrase in his entire speech came quietly and I am just paraphrasing, but essentially he said the problems particularly with the economy did not happen overnight and would not be solved overnight, maybe not even in ONE TERM OF OFFICE.
Given I still had time on my hands before I had to go to sleep I wandered out to visit briefly with the girls. Those of you that own llamas know that once they have settled down for the night, they tend to take umbrage to being disturbed. First, they have had a busy day eating, sleeping, playing, aimlessly wandering around, playing, sleeping, and occasionally wandering into a shelter not only to eat some more, but to prove to me that no matter how much I clean it up, poop happens. Second, its nightime and after an exhausting day all they want to do is hunker down and sleep. It is also a rare thing for us to invade their lives after dark, which means we have disrupted their routine, and disrupting the routine of llamas is and act of sacrilege.
But this was one of those moments in history that requires contemplation and perspective so what better way to gain perspective than to share what is being billed as a major turning point in national, international, and human history with the llamas. After all it will impact them as well right?
They were all hunkered down and calmly watching the rains at night one of a rather significant rain storm, chewing their collective cuds, and giving me looks of disdain for intruding on their night-time routine, but they also were quite obviously aware that I had come to visit with a message of exceptional importance. All eyes and ears were focussed on me, no one jumped up and ran away.
The girls were in their usual groups in the shelters mixed and matched by age. Most of the elder girls gather in 'their' shelter so I that is where I decided to start with sharing the news in order to get the proper elder perspective.
I was amazed at their reactions to the announcement that Obama had won the election. Rachel stood up, turned around and kushed right back in the same place with her back to me. Sunny yawned, chewed on a foot that had an itch, and Tipper sneezed. Most certainly NOT the reaction the rest of the world was having.
So I asked them ok girls who exactly did you want to win the election?
And it was Rachel who looked over her shoulder and spoke for the llamas.
"Oh dear fool', she said, "it really doesn't matter in the scheme of the universe because Earth Abides ." She paused briefly and looked at the roof of the shelter before continuing.
"But since you have asked here's what we all think. You may not know this, but we knew there was an election, our hearing is incredible and while you and Chloe watch TV we hear it, when you are in the pastures talking we listen, so of course we form opinions about what it is you think. Obviously there are some problems in the world that are impacting your existence and so it effects us. The problems right now apparently are LARGE. The bar is set high, very high for anyone who would win this election thing, and as a group we have decided it didn't matter who won. The bar is too high for any magic wand solutions. The worst of it all, and please listen carefully to this, THE PROBLEM NOW THAT OBAMA HAS WON THE ELECTION by a huge overwhelming mandate for change is that the bar, already incredibly high, has just been raised by you, by the media and by President Elect Obama to a height that even I couldn't jump over." And she stopped talking.
Sunny chimed in. "You expect instant results, expect instant gratification, expect instant solutions, expect it all NOW" And she stood up and faced me. "I have watched you use all the technology things that come up and are supposed to make you more connected with the world and make your lives easier and give you more time to enjoy the simple things in life. Well if you haven't noticed, there are no simple things left in life for you humans. You have sucked the simplicity out of your lives, and you don't even know it." She turned away in disgust with me.
And NOW it was Tipper's turn to share the wisdom. "We are NOT llamas for Obama, or llamas for McCain, or even llamas for any one else. You need to understand that we are llamas for llamas. Not for any of the constructs you want us to have, but for our own. Your problems are by side note our problems, but what Obama does or doesn't do isn't going to make our lives noticably better, or simpler, it will just be one more thing happening around us, that we have no control over. And in fact it is important to understand that no ONE PERSON can make the kinds of differences in the world that you and the rest of humanity in this country silently and desparately crave." Then she walked right up to me and very quietly whispered, "You humans don't even know what it is you want. You are caught in a whirlpool of your own creation, and are being slowly sucked down into the abyss. I know that is not what you hoped to hear from us, but that is what we have seen, and what we think. Relax a bit, smell the rain, stand in it and let yourself get wet to the skin and enjoy it." And with that comment she walked out of the shelter, found a spot in the rain and just kushed to do just that.
I honestly don't know what it all means, don't know what they were trying to tell me, but can tell you for a fact that for the past five days as I watch the news spin and spin and re-spin everything about this election, I am struggling more with the comments made by my llamas. They are wise and magic creatures and when they speak it is important to listen.
I think I will think on this some more...
As you know from my last posting I am commuting of late and have had very little time to much of anything with the llamas the past two weeks.
I leave in the dark and get home in dark with just enough time to go to bed.
BUT.....
On election day I was home relatively early and got to see both speeches
by the major candidates as the results made it clear that Sen Obama was going to be our next President of the United States.
Full video John McCain
Full video Barack Obama
Both speeches were full of powerful emotions and recognized fully the intensity and potential catastrophic impacts the issues facing our nation are and will have on all our lives. I was impressed with Senator McCain's comments, and quite overwhelmed by now President Elect Obama's recognition of the power of the moment, its implications, and the uphill struggle this country will face in the months and years ahead. The single most overlooked phrase in his entire speech came quietly and I am just paraphrasing, but essentially he said the problems particularly with the economy did not happen overnight and would not be solved overnight, maybe not even in ONE TERM OF OFFICE.
Given I still had time on my hands before I had to go to sleep I wandered out to visit briefly with the girls. Those of you that own llamas know that once they have settled down for the night, they tend to take umbrage to being disturbed. First, they have had a busy day eating, sleeping, playing, aimlessly wandering around, playing, sleeping, and occasionally wandering into a shelter not only to eat some more, but to prove to me that no matter how much I clean it up, poop happens. Second, its nightime and after an exhausting day all they want to do is hunker down and sleep. It is also a rare thing for us to invade their lives after dark, which means we have disrupted their routine, and disrupting the routine of llamas is and act of sacrilege.
But this was one of those moments in history that requires contemplation and perspective so what better way to gain perspective than to share what is being billed as a major turning point in national, international, and human history with the llamas. After all it will impact them as well right?
They were all hunkered down and calmly watching the rains at night one of a rather significant rain storm, chewing their collective cuds, and giving me looks of disdain for intruding on their night-time routine, but they also were quite obviously aware that I had come to visit with a message of exceptional importance. All eyes and ears were focussed on me, no one jumped up and ran away.
The girls were in their usual groups in the shelters mixed and matched by age. Most of the elder girls gather in 'their' shelter so I that is where I decided to start with sharing the news in order to get the proper elder perspective.
I was amazed at their reactions to the announcement that Obama had won the election. Rachel stood up, turned around and kushed right back in the same place with her back to me. Sunny yawned, chewed on a foot that had an itch, and Tipper sneezed. Most certainly NOT the reaction the rest of the world was having.
So I asked them ok girls who exactly did you want to win the election?
And it was Rachel who looked over her shoulder and spoke for the llamas.
"Oh dear fool', she said, "it really doesn't matter in the scheme of the universe because Earth Abides ." She paused briefly and looked at the roof of the shelter before continuing.
"But since you have asked here's what we all think. You may not know this, but we knew there was an election, our hearing is incredible and while you and Chloe watch TV we hear it, when you are in the pastures talking we listen, so of course we form opinions about what it is you think. Obviously there are some problems in the world that are impacting your existence and so it effects us. The problems right now apparently are LARGE. The bar is set high, very high for anyone who would win this election thing, and as a group we have decided it didn't matter who won. The bar is too high for any magic wand solutions. The worst of it all, and please listen carefully to this, THE PROBLEM NOW THAT OBAMA HAS WON THE ELECTION by a huge overwhelming mandate for change is that the bar, already incredibly high, has just been raised by you, by the media and by President Elect Obama to a height that even I couldn't jump over." And she stopped talking.
Sunny chimed in. "You expect instant results, expect instant gratification, expect instant solutions, expect it all NOW" And she stood up and faced me. "I have watched you use all the technology things that come up and are supposed to make you more connected with the world and make your lives easier and give you more time to enjoy the simple things in life. Well if you haven't noticed, there are no simple things left in life for you humans. You have sucked the simplicity out of your lives, and you don't even know it." She turned away in disgust with me.
And NOW it was Tipper's turn to share the wisdom. "We are NOT llamas for Obama, or llamas for McCain, or even llamas for any one else. You need to understand that we are llamas for llamas. Not for any of the constructs you want us to have, but for our own. Your problems are by side note our problems, but what Obama does or doesn't do isn't going to make our lives noticably better, or simpler, it will just be one more thing happening around us, that we have no control over. And in fact it is important to understand that no ONE PERSON can make the kinds of differences in the world that you and the rest of humanity in this country silently and desparately crave." Then she walked right up to me and very quietly whispered, "You humans don't even know what it is you want. You are caught in a whirlpool of your own creation, and are being slowly sucked down into the abyss. I know that is not what you hoped to hear from us, but that is what we have seen, and what we think. Relax a bit, smell the rain, stand in it and let yourself get wet to the skin and enjoy it." And with that comment she walked out of the shelter, found a spot in the rain and just kushed to do just that.
I honestly don't know what it all means, don't know what they were trying to tell me, but can tell you for a fact that for the past five days as I watch the news spin and spin and re-spin everything about this election, I am struggling more with the comments made by my llamas. They are wise and magic creatures and when they speak it is important to listen.
I think I will think on this some more...
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Autumn Leaves and Moments of Clarity
Last week has indeed been strange and has thrown me into the wonderful world of being A COMMUTER. I was dispatched to work a job in Lake Forest Park Washington. Well actually Kenmore, but that is moot to the subject at hand.
View Larger Map
The actual final round trip mileage is 165 miles. I leave the house at 5:00am and arrive at the job site at 6:30 give or take 5 or 10 minutes. What you have to realize of course is that we actually don't start working until 7:30, BUT this is the I-5 corridor through all of Pierce and King Counties here in my beloved Washington State and were I to leave the house at 6am, the travel time would make it impossible to arrive on time. By proof is my travel time at the end of the day. We generally quit for the day between 3:30 and 4pm. On Wednesday this week the trip home took 2 hours for the same 82 miles. On Thursday the trip took 2 1/2 hours, and on FRIDAY it took me a complete 3 hours to get home. No accidents, no getting off the freeway, no disaster weather, just an obscene volume of traffic that makes it impossible to get anywhere fast. I actually spent more than 2 hours on Friday driving my little Kia Rio in second gear!!!
So that all makes a 40 hour work week expand to 60+ hours and lord help me the day there is actually an accident in either direction on the freeway; everything comes to a dead standstill regardless of which direction the accident is in. Don't know if this is unique to the PNW, but a southbound accident will bring northbound traffic to a dead stop so everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE has an morbidly obscene desire to hopefully catch some real gore laying sprawled across the freeway.
So here's how the day lays out. Up at 4am leave the house at 5am work 8 hours, drive home, arrive home between 6 and 7pm and go to bed at 8pm just to start the whole thing all over again. I get at best a grand total of 2 hours time awake at the end of the day.
What this also means is that Chloe is stuck dealing with ALL of the chores on our little farm. Besides the usual things she does, cooking, cleaning, laundry, and grocery shopping AFTER working a full time job, she needs to feed and water all the animals. She has to keep the fire going [literally] since this is our sole source of heat, and deal with any of the crisis things that happen when you own as many llamas as we do.
I seriously considered finding a place to stay up north in order to avoid the constant driving, but then did the math. The cheapest motel room I could find with even the closest thing to moderately sanitary was 45 dollars a night. Again comes math and money. I get 38 miles to the gallon which means right now with the crash in gasoline prices, it only costs me 7.50 to drive round trip per day. Yes I spend 4 hours minimum on the road, but 45 per night for 5 nights is 18% of my gross earnings for the week. Despite the time spent on the road over a 5 day period I get to keep another 187.00 in my pocket for the 20 hours additional road time. Time may indeed be money and that may not sound like a lot of money to many, but that money saved in one week pays the monthly phone and electric bill. So what's a guy to do but grin and bear it.
Where or where you may ask are the Autumn Leaves and Moments of Clarity? When you are driving down the road travelling between 10 and 20 miles an hour for 1 to 2 hours on the way home, you have lots of time to look around you and unfortunately even more time to think. And given it is now November there is lots of fall color in the mix of alder, maple, sweetgum, cedar, fir and the occasional wild growing apple or cherry or pear tree on the slopes along the freeway. And its quite pretty. Its not the colors that blaze across the higher country of Eastern Washington, but close enough to remind me of my much much younger days on the east coast with fall colors from oak and hickory and ash and elm and birch and willow and maple and any number of other hardwoods that emblazen the natural landscapes of rural east coast communities. And there in lies THE CLARITY. Remember I told you when driving mindlessly your mind is anything but mindless. It makes huge leaps in directions you often are not prepared for.
That was then, this is now and the little moments are all I have. It's all about money and survival, the life I have now is what it is. Harsh economic times on a broader level and even harsher economic times on the home front have forced me to 'go where the work is' in an almost Steinbeck novel way. It's not the Great Depression, but things are bad enough that every action and every decisions starts with 'what's it going to cost'? Not in any grand metaphysical sense of emotions or risks to relationships but in real raw dollars. What price glory has been reduced to a simple what price.
THE CLARITY is that what I have now is quite possibly as good as it will get after all the changes the past two years have brought, and while I have not resigned myself to this life, it certainly has become the way of things. And worst of all is I am getting used to it.
Night work shifts averaging 12-18 hours with some as long as 25 hours, being ready to jump in the car at a moments notice and head off to a job somewhere working for a day here or a week there, often for people who not only don't know your name, but don't want to. Packing meals to go that have to be eaten while you work because the boss de jour doesn't believe that there are rules about meal breaks for a reason becomes the norm. Having to ask permission to use a porta-potty or a bush becomes a way of life, and waiting often for 2 or three hours to get that two minute becomes the rule rather than the exception.
But the bottom line is still always money. There is no pride just the fall if you choose not to take what's given how and when it's given. There are way too many people standing in line behind you to even pause to ask the normal questions about 'work conditions' that might have been a part of my past, and others' pasts.
I still apply for jobs that have some consistency and reliability, but it's to the point now where the numbers of people looking for work is so huge that most employers [even state and local government agencies and school districts] aren't even bothering to send out letters saying thanks but no thanks.
So what started out as simply commuting to make a buck turns into time spent looking at what should be beautiful Autumn Leaves and viola Moments of Clarity.
The actual final round trip mileage is 165 miles. I leave the house at 5:00am and arrive at the job site at 6:30 give or take 5 or 10 minutes. What you have to realize of course is that we actually don't start working until 7:30, BUT this is the I-5 corridor through all of Pierce and King Counties here in my beloved Washington State and were I to leave the house at 6am, the travel time would make it impossible to arrive on time. By proof is my travel time at the end of the day. We generally quit for the day between 3:30 and 4pm. On Wednesday this week the trip home took 2 hours for the same 82 miles. On Thursday the trip took 2 1/2 hours, and on FRIDAY it took me a complete 3 hours to get home. No accidents, no getting off the freeway, no disaster weather, just an obscene volume of traffic that makes it impossible to get anywhere fast. I actually spent more than 2 hours on Friday driving my little Kia Rio in second gear!!!
So that all makes a 40 hour work week expand to 60+ hours and lord help me the day there is actually an accident in either direction on the freeway; everything comes to a dead standstill regardless of which direction the accident is in. Don't know if this is unique to the PNW, but a southbound accident will bring northbound traffic to a dead stop so everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE has an morbidly obscene desire to hopefully catch some real gore laying sprawled across the freeway.
So here's how the day lays out. Up at 4am leave the house at 5am work 8 hours, drive home, arrive home between 6 and 7pm and go to bed at 8pm just to start the whole thing all over again. I get at best a grand total of 2 hours time awake at the end of the day.
What this also means is that Chloe is stuck dealing with ALL of the chores on our little farm. Besides the usual things she does, cooking, cleaning, laundry, and grocery shopping AFTER working a full time job, she needs to feed and water all the animals. She has to keep the fire going [literally] since this is our sole source of heat, and deal with any of the crisis things that happen when you own as many llamas as we do.
I seriously considered finding a place to stay up north in order to avoid the constant driving, but then did the math. The cheapest motel room I could find with even the closest thing to moderately sanitary was 45 dollars a night. Again comes math and money. I get 38 miles to the gallon which means right now with the crash in gasoline prices, it only costs me 7.50 to drive round trip per day. Yes I spend 4 hours minimum on the road, but 45 per night for 5 nights is 18% of my gross earnings for the week. Despite the time spent on the road over a 5 day period I get to keep another 187.00 in my pocket for the 20 hours additional road time. Time may indeed be money and that may not sound like a lot of money to many, but that money saved in one week pays the monthly phone and electric bill. So what's a guy to do but grin and bear it.
Where or where you may ask are the Autumn Leaves and Moments of Clarity? When you are driving down the road travelling between 10 and 20 miles an hour for 1 to 2 hours on the way home, you have lots of time to look around you and unfortunately even more time to think. And given it is now November there is lots of fall color in the mix of alder, maple, sweetgum, cedar, fir and the occasional wild growing apple or cherry or pear tree on the slopes along the freeway. And its quite pretty. Its not the colors that blaze across the higher country of Eastern Washington, but close enough to remind me of my much much younger days on the east coast with fall colors from oak and hickory and ash and elm and birch and willow and maple and any number of other hardwoods that emblazen the natural landscapes of rural east coast communities. And there in lies THE CLARITY. Remember I told you when driving mindlessly your mind is anything but mindless. It makes huge leaps in directions you often are not prepared for.
That was then, this is now and the little moments are all I have. It's all about money and survival, the life I have now is what it is. Harsh economic times on a broader level and even harsher economic times on the home front have forced me to 'go where the work is' in an almost Steinbeck novel way. It's not the Great Depression, but things are bad enough that every action and every decisions starts with 'what's it going to cost'? Not in any grand metaphysical sense of emotions or risks to relationships but in real raw dollars. What price glory has been reduced to a simple what price.
THE CLARITY is that what I have now is quite possibly as good as it will get after all the changes the past two years have brought, and while I have not resigned myself to this life, it certainly has become the way of things. And worst of all is I am getting used to it.
Night work shifts averaging 12-18 hours with some as long as 25 hours, being ready to jump in the car at a moments notice and head off to a job somewhere working for a day here or a week there, often for people who not only don't know your name, but don't want to. Packing meals to go that have to be eaten while you work because the boss de jour doesn't believe that there are rules about meal breaks for a reason becomes the norm. Having to ask permission to use a porta-potty or a bush becomes a way of life, and waiting often for 2 or three hours to get that two minute becomes the rule rather than the exception.
But the bottom line is still always money. There is no pride just the fall if you choose not to take what's given how and when it's given. There are way too many people standing in line behind you to even pause to ask the normal questions about 'work conditions' that might have been a part of my past, and others' pasts.
I still apply for jobs that have some consistency and reliability, but it's to the point now where the numbers of people looking for work is so huge that most employers [even state and local government agencies and school districts] aren't even bothering to send out letters saying thanks but no thanks.
So what started out as simply commuting to make a buck turns into time spent looking at what should be beautiful Autumn Leaves and viola Moments of Clarity.
Monday, October 27, 2008
IT Happens When You Aren't looking
So long ago and yet not, I was 20. Grand and proud and subjecting myself to abuses and experimentations and travels doing things that remain parts of the hauntings of my life now, and I thought all was great with the world.
And then I was 25 with a real job and a real girlfriend with a son and then we married.
I woke up one day at its 30 years later. No children but married to my fourth wife, many many many jobs later and wondering now what happened to my life that once asked not for fame or fortune but simply for fullfillment. It's a new kind of resignation when you realize
that the life you thought you might have filled with children and comfort is now filled with doubts about self and hopes for a quiet happy future.
Who I am now, what I am now, is the sum of what I've done, but attempting to wrap around what it is I have done for 55 years is elusive. Scary to say the least. And that is what happens when you aren't looking. Life Happens when you aren't looking, and it happens even if you are looking.
If this is what a mid-life crisis is all about, I am VERY NOT IMPRESSED.
And then I was 25 with a real job and a real girlfriend with a son and then we married.
I woke up one day at its 30 years later. No children but married to my fourth wife, many many many jobs later and wondering now what happened to my life that once asked not for fame or fortune but simply for fullfillment. It's a new kind of resignation when you realize
that the life you thought you might have filled with children and comfort is now filled with doubts about self and hopes for a quiet happy future.
Who I am now, what I am now, is the sum of what I've done, but attempting to wrap around what it is I have done for 55 years is elusive. Scary to say the least. And that is what happens when you aren't looking. Life Happens when you aren't looking, and it happens even if you are looking.
If this is what a mid-life crisis is all about, I am VERY NOT IMPRESSED.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
With Each Llama Passing Comes Pain
Sojourns Selene born February 22, 1997 died September 25, 2008. A llama who never asked for much, and gave her soul to the family and the herd.
She was a quiet and a gentle giant llama, willing to share every moment of joy and pain that was a part of her life. We bred her once and she lost that baby many years ago. We cried for her loss and shared in her pain. For three days she hovered over the body and came to us each time we went into the pasture as if to ask us 'fix this please'.
We cried at her passing today and I held her head as she slowly moved on to a place we hope is much more peaceful than the last few weeks of her life.
She lived in dignity and power and let us ease her pain without complaint.
We will miss her passion, miss her kisses, and miss her never ending antics in the herd.
Time passes for us all and with each passing of the members of our llama herd they, and we, all pause to reflect on the pain.
Selene was the third female to enter our lives oh so long ago and never once gave us reason to regret having her with us. Without fail we will miss the echo down our valley when calling her "Seleeene, Come on Seleeene" With that this thunderous llama would fly across from wherever she was to let us share a moment with her.
Oh sure she hated being sheared, but how many llamas will pick up any foot on command and let you trim her toes on or off lead?
How many llamas will pluck a carrot, or an apple chunk from your mouth without so much as blinking an eye?
After the vet had come and gone, and after she was placed in her final resting place overlooking the hills behind our property, I let the herd come back to where she had chosen to die.
The first to look for her was Cayan. Then all her babies, Heidi, Isabeau and Akela wandered to the spot where she had been.
And then came Rachel. She walked quietly and with the most regal and silent rigid stepping I have ever seen, paused directly over where she had been, raised her head and neck and gave Selene the longest round of snorts I have yet to hear her give. The other girls in the herd wandered over, paused and they too appeared lost and confused.
I know there is a smell to death, but want, no actually need, to believe that they understand what happened, understand the passing, and understand that death is part of the cycle of things.
And now as I write this, all the girls have wandered out into the pastures, understanding it seems that there are moments to pause and then moments to continue on with life.
Tomorrow will be another day with all the chores and all the requirements of living for me, and for the rest of the llamas, but there will be a hole in the universe. It will be an insignficant and small hole given the scope and nature of the universe and only important probably to me, and no doubt even this posting will never be read.
But there is a need for me to put thoughts somewhere.
Nemaste Selene.
Be at peace.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
What's in the word spam
Well google blogger has decided I'm spam and it seems that even though no one, and I do indeed mean no one ever reads this blog, they still seem to think its spam.
And it all appears that no matter what I do as far as attempting to communicate to them, no answers are to be sent back to me about my questions.
Oddly enough though, they are more than happy to take my money for the ad words account that also is never used by anyone.
So... at some point do not be surprised if the whole blog just disappears. After 20 days if THEY don't review it, the whole profile and blog just disappears and I won't be writing everything or apparently anything over again.
And it all appears that no matter what I do as far as attempting to communicate to them, no answers are to be sent back to me about my questions.
Oddly enough though, they are more than happy to take my money for the ad words account that also is never used by anyone.
So... at some point do not be surprised if the whole blog just disappears. After 20 days if THEY don't review it, the whole profile and blog just disappears and I won't be writing everything or apparently anything over again.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Thursday, July 3, 2008
THE BRICKS TOSSED OUR WAY
A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something.
As his car passed, no children appeared.
Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door!
He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to
the spot where the brick had been thrown. The angry driver
then jumped out of the car, grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against a parked car shouting, 'What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are you doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?'
The young boy was apologetic. 'Please, mister...please, I'm sorry but I didn't know what else to do,' He pleaded.
'I threw the brick because no one else would stop...' With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car. 'It's my brother, 'he said 'He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up.'
Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, 'Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me.'
Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the heelchair, then took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts.
Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, 'Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me.'
Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the heelchair, then took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts.
A quick look told him everything was going to be okay. 'Thank you and may God bless you,' the grateful child told the stranger. Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the boy push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home.
It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar.
The damage was very noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message:
'Don't go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention!'
God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts.
It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar.
The damage was very noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message:
'Don't go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention!'
God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts.
Sometimes when we don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at us. It's our choice to listen or not.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Llamas, Llemons, and Llemonade
The old saying "When life hands you lemons, make lemonade", is a wonderful fantasy sometimes when it comes to Llife with Llamas, and sometimes a lemon is just a lemon and you need to try to figure out how to survive.
We lost one of our newborn cria on the second day of life and there is nothing lemonade about it.
She was born absolutely beautiful, and textbook. 28 pounds rocking and rolling with the best of them, full of excitement and energy.
We had some small events with the meconium passing and it took her a bit longer than usual to hook up with mom, but all was looking great when we went to bed that night.
The next morning was much worse. She was lethargic, difficulty moving, stumbling, no fever. Quick trip to the vet with mom in tow, xrays revealed what appeared to be gas build up. Another veterniarian administered high enema with nothing passing.
Temperatures were excessively hot here over 90 that day. At 4pm the decision was made to transport mom and the baby to Oregon State University. Normal drive time from Olympia to Corvallis Oregon in truck and trailer is around 3 1/2 to 4 hours. I made it in just under 2 1/2 hours. The baby bless her sweet soul still was struggling to hold on to life.
And the staff at Oregon State University fought valiantly with her to try and get vitals stabilized, get fluids into her, and save her. NOTHING in the blood work which was massively extensive showed anything that should be wrong, but there were signs of neurological damage from sources unknown.
For almost three hours the vet team fought, the baby went into cardiac failure twice and they brought her back, and all this while Tessa [the dam] stood patiently alongside me humming while we watched and helped as best we could. After the second cardiac failure, a long conversation with the team left us no real options and the baby was euthanized. At best the team of vets and techs think she may have had some form of head trauma during the night.
That was the first live birth cria we have lost, and it has ripped our family asunder. Tessa even now after three weeks still wanders around occassionally looking for her baby. My wife and I are expecting our third birth very soon from our beloved Cayan and we are filled with more than the normal anxieties.
And as some kind of symbol of all this, our most favorite maple tree on the property finally gave its last gasp and died. We had to have it removed because of the danger it represented to the llamas, their shelters, and our home.
So as far as I am concerned at least for the moment is sometimes a lemon is just a lemon, and thinking you are always going to be able to 'make lemonade' is just a way of choosing to play ostrich and stick your head in the sand.
I'm sure time will heal the sorrows Tessa is having, and will probably make it less frequent when I think of this magnificent baby who died before she could even really have a name, but each time I look out at the stone marker where she lies, I can't help cringe for now and think that lemons are what they are, and pretending otherwise is foolhardy.
We lost one of our newborn cria on the second day of life and there is nothing lemonade about it.
She was born absolutely beautiful, and textbook. 28 pounds rocking and rolling with the best of them, full of excitement and energy.
We had some small events with the meconium passing and it took her a bit longer than usual to hook up with mom, but all was looking great when we went to bed that night.
The next morning was much worse. She was lethargic, difficulty moving, stumbling, no fever. Quick trip to the vet with mom in tow, xrays revealed what appeared to be gas build up. Another veterniarian administered high enema with nothing passing.
Temperatures were excessively hot here over 90 that day. At 4pm the decision was made to transport mom and the baby to Oregon State University. Normal drive time from Olympia to Corvallis Oregon in truck and trailer is around 3 1/2 to 4 hours. I made it in just under 2 1/2 hours. The baby bless her sweet soul still was struggling to hold on to life.
And the staff at Oregon State University fought valiantly with her to try and get vitals stabilized, get fluids into her, and save her. NOTHING in the blood work which was massively extensive showed anything that should be wrong, but there were signs of neurological damage from sources unknown.
For almost three hours the vet team fought, the baby went into cardiac failure twice and they brought her back, and all this while Tessa [the dam] stood patiently alongside me humming while we watched and helped as best we could. After the second cardiac failure, a long conversation with the team left us no real options and the baby was euthanized. At best the team of vets and techs think she may have had some form of head trauma during the night.
That was the first live birth cria we have lost, and it has ripped our family asunder. Tessa even now after three weeks still wanders around occassionally looking for her baby. My wife and I are expecting our third birth very soon from our beloved Cayan and we are filled with more than the normal anxieties.
And as some kind of symbol of all this, our most favorite maple tree on the property finally gave its last gasp and died. We had to have it removed because of the danger it represented to the llamas, their shelters, and our home.
So as far as I am concerned at least for the moment is sometimes a lemon is just a lemon, and thinking you are always going to be able to 'make lemonade' is just a way of choosing to play ostrich and stick your head in the sand.
I'm sure time will heal the sorrows Tessa is having, and will probably make it less frequent when I think of this magnificent baby who died before she could even really have a name, but each time I look out at the stone marker where she lies, I can't help cringe for now and think that lemons are what they are, and pretending otherwise is foolhardy.
Friday, May 9, 2008
And Today the Llamas SHOW ME THE MAGIC
So this afternoon, my llamas decide that enough was enough of my mood and all the gloom and doom and sadness and just SHOW ME THE MAGIC that comes only with being a llama.
They do this for reasons known only to them, but for reasons that worked!
They do this for reasons known only to them, but for reasons that worked!
In Rememberance of the Llamas
This by far the longest entry I have ever made in this blog, but sometimes emotions run deep.
This September will mark the 8th Anniversary of LLAMAS in our lives. There have been moments of GLORIOUS joy and HORRIFIC sadness that have been a part of it.
But in the deepest of reflections I would not change a moment of it, and just cannot like many llama owners, imagine a life without them embedded into my soul. And yet, eventually as we age, and our llamas age there is an underlying piece of my mind buried and hidden that knows this day may come to pass. I suppose what triggered this more than anything was the fact that yesterday marked the 6th anniversary of the first born llama on our farm, Royce's King Aslan
.
Windows Live Spaces
Born May 8, 2002, died October 2003 he was with us for just a short brief blip in the grander scheme of things, but was the epitome of ALL THAT IS GREAT AND WONDERFUL about llamas. His soul and spirit truly reflected his namesake, Aslan from the Narnia Chronicles and rarely does a day pass, that I don't think of him, or pause at his special resting place here on the farm. His death has a left a void to this day that is hard to explain.
And from there the melancholic mix of emotions kept building as I looked out in the pasture and saw the animals that have come to us from situations ranging from sad, to horrific. It built more as I saw the shadows of those who unfortunately have died in our care as we tried to bring them back from illnesses suffered at the hands of others.
My mind kept wandering in the wee hours of the night and I found myself sitting at the computer and looking at the photos of the llamas who have come through our lives. In one way or another there have been more than 200 that have crossed our paths, through situations ranging from the simplest things like owners needing help with shearing or toe trimming or handling, to the worst of the worst involving starvation, cruelty and neglect.
And then I found an article I wrote back in November 2002 for some of the llama magazines and llama associations. I started reading it, and remembering all that made my life with llamas rewarding and filled with sorry all in the same breath. And so below is the article written in what seems to be oh so very long ago:
I was recently approached by a national llama magazine to write an article about 13 llamas removed from a custom slaughterhouse in Sumner WA. I spent quite some time trying to think of a way to make this a story that would twist the soul, and bring tears to the eyes of every reader. I thought about preaching about why llamas should not be part of the meat industry in this country. I thought about talking about which rescue group is best, which one does the most good, which one is right in their approach. I thought about hyping my participation with Llama Rescue Net, or the work done by Southeast Llama Rescue, or Central Oregon Llama Association, or the Montana Sanctuary, or the WVLF or Stillpointe Sanctuary here in Washington State, just to mention a very, very few.
I decided instead to tell you a tale about a little boy.
He grew up on a dairy farm, complete with cows, and pigs and chickens and mules for plowing and an outhouse and a wood cook stove, all run by his grandfather. The animals were respected for the role they played in sustaining our existence. We were responsible for the dignity of their lives and as children we too were required to recognize and accept that responsibility. We were taught at a very early age, that deserved or not, humanity had achieved the role of stewardship of this planet, and with that came black and white rules of behavior.
Animals that were too sick were humanely destroyed, and their passing was always treated quietly and with the understanding that all creatures great and small come and go and we must accept this a part of our commitment to them.
Abused or mistreated animals at other farms nearby were taken from their owners, sometimes at gunpoint, by consensus of the community. It wasn't a simpler world, just one where people still understood that all life, human or animal, had value. These animals were added to the herds at local farms.
Time marched on. The outhouse gave way to indoor plumbing; the wood cook stove was replaced with an electric range. The mules were replaced with a tractor, and lived the rest of their lives with us as honored parts of the family. The boy grew up and moved away, and the farm was eventually sold.
But the tale continued.
As time went on, I remembered the days on my grandfather's farm and waited to return in some small way to that time as a boy. We have owned llamas for just less than 3 years now, making us new to the world of llamas. We originally intended on purchasing sheep for use by my wife and daughter in the spinning and weaving crafts and offsetting some of the expenses by selling the excess wool. We encountered a llama owner, and her llamas and of course the rest is history. Anyone coming in contact with the royal grace and dignity these animals are capable of can't help but find the experience overwhelming.
We purchased 3 llamas with grand temperaments, and wonderful fiber and our world has forever been changed. We acquired a female of the old classic line as an additional companion for our lone female. A local llama owner, getting up in years wanted to make certain that her llamas had caring and loving homes. She met with us many times, came out to visit our facilities at least twice before she allowed us to have her animal. She still comes and visits regularly, and has become an integral part of our extended family. Her commitment to her llamas reminded me strongly of the days I had spent on the farm with my grandfather.
And all was well with the world.
There was an ad in the paper for two llamas, must sell, $250.00 for the pair, and our world changed again. This time the grace and dignity was gone, and the underbelly that is part of EVERY animal industry showed itself not much more than a stone's throw from our quiet little corner.
Two llamas, male and female in enclosures not more than 20 x 30 feet each, both with halters and leads dragging, pastern deep in their own excrement, tucked away in a corner of a small farm operation supposedly to be 'guard llamas'. The fencing was hog panels, barbed wire, and pallets, filled with chunks of metal sticking up out of the ground. We bought the llamas. Oreo [named by our daughter] was supposedly pregnant, the male was intact, the man who ran the farm was old and senile and couldn't even remember where or when he first got them, but it "wasn't all that long ago, cause the grass was still green, and these animals aren't worth a hoot as guard animals, the coyotes are still getting my chickens!" These animals were so parasite infested you could literally see the worms in their feces. The male had halter sores and toes so long and soft that they flopped when he walked and his pads were rotting. Within two days the female went down in the middle of her quarantine area. After four weeks of continual care, including numerous vet visits and hospital stays we were able to get the female stabilized and eating. It's been 9 months now, no cria, and in her world humans are to be avoided at all costs. Buttons, the male has become a great companion animal for the rest of the male herd and for me.
Then another ad appears. This time, a single llama "found" in Idaho, brought over to Western Washington on a lark "cause everyone knows you can sell llamas for big bucks over there". Pheasant breeding pen of chicken wire with cement floor for shelter, adequate pasture, no water, no minerals, and "oh by the way she is a little wild ever since we lassoed and hog tied her to get the porcupine quills out of her hind quarters last winter". Dahli lives a quiet life with us now as we try to teach her still that people don't need to be feared. It's been 6 months.
Then came Henry. Henry was up for auction in Woodland Washington, as "the perfect slaughter animal, that will be made freezer ready for a minimal additional charge". He was bought for $25.00 by a 16-year-old boy living in downtown Portland Oregon and taken home. The boy explained to his father he couldn't stand the thought of so graceful an animal being ground into hamburger. A week later, a call went out via emails. Henry has had an abscess on the inside of his leg, and what should be done to clean it up. It has maggots crawling inside the wound, and the backyard is too small to keep the animal. Over $400.00 was donated by dozens of people across the US for his care. Henry was transported to us. The wound was the size of a cantaloupe on his inside thigh, maggot ridden, and a solid hard mass. He was immediately taken to our vet, X-rays were taken and surgery to clean the wound was scheduled. Further examination of the X-rays and consultations with Oregon State and Western State Universities, showed the infection had eaten away at the tendons and ligaments of his leg, and was eating into the bone. Henry would never be able to use that leg, and would need to spend the remainder of his life on penicillin and other antibiotics to keep the systemic infection under control. Henry was euthanized and our world became sadder for his passing.
The more we did, the more we looked, the worse things seemed to be. Beneath the quiet wonderful world of llamas was this other horribly ugly world full of discarded, unwanted, neglected, forgotten llamas spun from a world of greed, or ignorance, or both. Sometimes it was breeders dumping on unsuspecting customers who saw them only as cute and loveable, but forgot to mention the cute little 1 year old turns into a full blown adult with different temperament and needs, and would live for 20 or more years. Then the backyard pets have babies, because 'babies are cute'. And two begets 3, which begets 5, which begets 10. Sometimes the animals in need were the result of true human tragedy. The single man killed in a car crash, the wife who died of cancer, or the 4H child struck with paralytic meningitis.
I encountered groups who struggle quietly and desperately to clean up the mess. There are formal organizations scattered across the United States dedicated each in their own way, each with their own philosophies focusing on trying to salvage the forgotten, or educate the public about the realities of llamas. These volunteers operate on shoestring budgets, minimal donations of funds and supplies, and struggle to clean up the messes left behind by others. Many times the mess is the poor forgotten couple who bought some llamas sometimes from a "well known breeder" sometimes just from 'Johnny across town" as pets and now don't know what to do. And many times, its 13 llamas or 6 llamas or 18 llamas or more than 40 llamas that have been forgotten by the world and just dumped, or walked away from.
There are also the little quiet people who just struggle in their own neighborhoods to do right, stumbling along on their own and trying to learn as they go.
There's Tracey and John, llama owners who drove by a slaughter house and found 6, no 10, oops 13 llamas in the lot waiting to be purchased and slaughtered, and shelled out their personal funds to buy them and are now desperately working to find adoptive homes for these dumped animals. Some have been handled in the past, all are just "plain John llamas", and some have obviously been treated like the ' old junkyard dog'.
There's Tom who got a male and female pair of llamas from some folks who had llamas they allowed all the neighbor kids to chase and try to ride until they got bucked off, who doesn't know what to do with the intact male constantly attacking him when he approaches the pregnant female.
There's Reza, who sort of inherited a group of llamas, and emus and pigeons and chickens, and goats and ducks and geese and doesn't know what to do, reaching out for help trying to find good homes.
Like all animal related businesses, the world of llamas has show gatherings full of pomp and circumstance designed to spotlight the best the world of llamas has created. BUT, with creation comes a moral imperative and responsibility to remember that someday the mules will get too old to pull a plow, and something better will come along. The parts of our past that got us where we are still need to be cared for, not merely hidden off in a corner or discarded for the sake of convenience. There's a responsibility to ensure the animal you chose to create finds a place in this world that provides the dignity and respect it deserves. There's a responsibility to make certain the animal has been properly trained. There's a responsibility to make certain the people who are buying your animal have also been properly trained and that they have the resources and continual access to mentoring as needed. But that's a different tale for others to tell.
There will always be rescues regardless of the animal, regardless of the laws, regardless of all the hand wringing at llama gatherings. There will always be a Henry somewhere, maggoty and dying, and taken to auction only because he was in a herd of males and got attacked and why bother after all there's more where he came from.
Do something, anything.
Find a spot for one more llama on your farm, not one that adds value, or can be used to improve you herd, or your point standings, just one more "plain Jane llama". Believe me, it feels great to be able to say 'today I made a difference'.
Take the coin jar and send it to an organization of your choice. Find the old halters and leads and mail them off.
Shout FOUL about the folks who are adding to the problem. Don't whisper it in the motel rooms after the llama shows have ended; don't whimper it on the chat rooms and email lists.
SHOUT it out to the public who are not part of the world of llamas.
Make the public aware of the joy and majesty every llama has within it.
Make every prospective buyer aware of the moral imperative that is required when choosing to own another living being.
Be there ALWAYS for your customers.
Make the public aware of the 'bad apples' breeding with no purpose other than to fund more breeding. Point fingers, name names.
TAKE BACK THE LLAMA WHO HASN'T FIT IN ITS NEW HOME!!!
To the multitudes of llama owners who have always recognized the need to be responsible for your actions and have acted in the best interest of animal and business and see no conflicts between the two - I want to thank you personally and think your actions should be shouted loud and proud by the entire llama community.
To the special people who have helped my family and me with our llamas, and have shown us their power and spirit, thank you.
To all the special people who quietly or not so quietly fight daily to clean up the messes others have made, thank you.
To those of you who have gotten half way through this article and decided I'm just another crackpot… I wish you had known my grandfather.
And that's the tale I chose to tell.
And so in rememberance and dedication to the people and the animals whose lives will be forever entwined with ours, no matter where the future leads:
Gary and Chloe and the Llama Loves of our Lives
www.roadsendllamas.com
Olympia WA
This September will mark the 8th Anniversary of LLAMAS in our lives. There have been moments of GLORIOUS joy and HORRIFIC sadness that have been a part of it.
But in the deepest of reflections I would not change a moment of it, and just cannot like many llama owners, imagine a life without them embedded into my soul. And yet, eventually as we age, and our llamas age there is an underlying piece of my mind buried and hidden that knows this day may come to pass. I suppose what triggered this more than anything was the fact that yesterday marked the 6th anniversary of the first born llama on our farm, Royce's King Aslan
.
Windows Live Spaces
Born May 8, 2002, died October 2003 he was with us for just a short brief blip in the grander scheme of things, but was the epitome of ALL THAT IS GREAT AND WONDERFUL about llamas. His soul and spirit truly reflected his namesake, Aslan from the Narnia Chronicles and rarely does a day pass, that I don't think of him, or pause at his special resting place here on the farm. His death has a left a void to this day that is hard to explain.
And from there the melancholic mix of emotions kept building as I looked out in the pasture and saw the animals that have come to us from situations ranging from sad, to horrific. It built more as I saw the shadows of those who unfortunately have died in our care as we tried to bring them back from illnesses suffered at the hands of others.
My mind kept wandering in the wee hours of the night and I found myself sitting at the computer and looking at the photos of the llamas who have come through our lives. In one way or another there have been more than 200 that have crossed our paths, through situations ranging from the simplest things like owners needing help with shearing or toe trimming or handling, to the worst of the worst involving starvation, cruelty and neglect.
And then I found an article I wrote back in November 2002 for some of the llama magazines and llama associations. I started reading it, and remembering all that made my life with llamas rewarding and filled with sorry all in the same breath. And so below is the article written in what seems to be oh so very long ago:
I was recently approached by a national llama magazine to write an article about 13 llamas removed from a custom slaughterhouse in Sumner WA. I spent quite some time trying to think of a way to make this a story that would twist the soul, and bring tears to the eyes of every reader. I thought about preaching about why llamas should not be part of the meat industry in this country. I thought about talking about which rescue group is best, which one does the most good, which one is right in their approach. I thought about hyping my participation with Llama Rescue Net, or the work done by Southeast Llama Rescue, or Central Oregon Llama Association, or the Montana Sanctuary, or the WVLF or Stillpointe Sanctuary here in Washington State, just to mention a very, very few.
I decided instead to tell you a tale about a little boy.
He grew up on a dairy farm, complete with cows, and pigs and chickens and mules for plowing and an outhouse and a wood cook stove, all run by his grandfather. The animals were respected for the role they played in sustaining our existence. We were responsible for the dignity of their lives and as children we too were required to recognize and accept that responsibility. We were taught at a very early age, that deserved or not, humanity had achieved the role of stewardship of this planet, and with that came black and white rules of behavior.
Animals that were too sick were humanely destroyed, and their passing was always treated quietly and with the understanding that all creatures great and small come and go and we must accept this a part of our commitment to them.
Abused or mistreated animals at other farms nearby were taken from their owners, sometimes at gunpoint, by consensus of the community. It wasn't a simpler world, just one where people still understood that all life, human or animal, had value. These animals were added to the herds at local farms.
Time marched on. The outhouse gave way to indoor plumbing; the wood cook stove was replaced with an electric range. The mules were replaced with a tractor, and lived the rest of their lives with us as honored parts of the family. The boy grew up and moved away, and the farm was eventually sold.
But the tale continued.
As time went on, I remembered the days on my grandfather's farm and waited to return in some small way to that time as a boy. We have owned llamas for just less than 3 years now, making us new to the world of llamas. We originally intended on purchasing sheep for use by my wife and daughter in the spinning and weaving crafts and offsetting some of the expenses by selling the excess wool. We encountered a llama owner, and her llamas and of course the rest is history. Anyone coming in contact with the royal grace and dignity these animals are capable of can't help but find the experience overwhelming.
We purchased 3 llamas with grand temperaments, and wonderful fiber and our world has forever been changed. We acquired a female of the old classic line as an additional companion for our lone female. A local llama owner, getting up in years wanted to make certain that her llamas had caring and loving homes. She met with us many times, came out to visit our facilities at least twice before she allowed us to have her animal. She still comes and visits regularly, and has become an integral part of our extended family. Her commitment to her llamas reminded me strongly of the days I had spent on the farm with my grandfather.
And all was well with the world.
There was an ad in the paper for two llamas, must sell, $250.00 for the pair, and our world changed again. This time the grace and dignity was gone, and the underbelly that is part of EVERY animal industry showed itself not much more than a stone's throw from our quiet little corner.
Two llamas, male and female in enclosures not more than 20 x 30 feet each, both with halters and leads dragging, pastern deep in their own excrement, tucked away in a corner of a small farm operation supposedly to be 'guard llamas'. The fencing was hog panels, barbed wire, and pallets, filled with chunks of metal sticking up out of the ground. We bought the llamas. Oreo [named by our daughter] was supposedly pregnant, the male was intact, the man who ran the farm was old and senile and couldn't even remember where or when he first got them, but it "wasn't all that long ago, cause the grass was still green, and these animals aren't worth a hoot as guard animals, the coyotes are still getting my chickens!" These animals were so parasite infested you could literally see the worms in their feces. The male had halter sores and toes so long and soft that they flopped when he walked and his pads were rotting. Within two days the female went down in the middle of her quarantine area. After four weeks of continual care, including numerous vet visits and hospital stays we were able to get the female stabilized and eating. It's been 9 months now, no cria, and in her world humans are to be avoided at all costs. Buttons, the male has become a great companion animal for the rest of the male herd and for me.
Then another ad appears. This time, a single llama "found" in Idaho, brought over to Western Washington on a lark "cause everyone knows you can sell llamas for big bucks over there". Pheasant breeding pen of chicken wire with cement floor for shelter, adequate pasture, no water, no minerals, and "oh by the way she is a little wild ever since we lassoed and hog tied her to get the porcupine quills out of her hind quarters last winter". Dahli lives a quiet life with us now as we try to teach her still that people don't need to be feared. It's been 6 months.
Then came Henry. Henry was up for auction in Woodland Washington, as "the perfect slaughter animal, that will be made freezer ready for a minimal additional charge". He was bought for $25.00 by a 16-year-old boy living in downtown Portland Oregon and taken home. The boy explained to his father he couldn't stand the thought of so graceful an animal being ground into hamburger. A week later, a call went out via emails. Henry has had an abscess on the inside of his leg, and what should be done to clean it up. It has maggots crawling inside the wound, and the backyard is too small to keep the animal. Over $400.00 was donated by dozens of people across the US for his care. Henry was transported to us. The wound was the size of a cantaloupe on his inside thigh, maggot ridden, and a solid hard mass. He was immediately taken to our vet, X-rays were taken and surgery to clean the wound was scheduled. Further examination of the X-rays and consultations with Oregon State and Western State Universities, showed the infection had eaten away at the tendons and ligaments of his leg, and was eating into the bone. Henry would never be able to use that leg, and would need to spend the remainder of his life on penicillin and other antibiotics to keep the systemic infection under control. Henry was euthanized and our world became sadder for his passing.
The more we did, the more we looked, the worse things seemed to be. Beneath the quiet wonderful world of llamas was this other horribly ugly world full of discarded, unwanted, neglected, forgotten llamas spun from a world of greed, or ignorance, or both. Sometimes it was breeders dumping on unsuspecting customers who saw them only as cute and loveable, but forgot to mention the cute little 1 year old turns into a full blown adult with different temperament and needs, and would live for 20 or more years. Then the backyard pets have babies, because 'babies are cute'. And two begets 3, which begets 5, which begets 10. Sometimes the animals in need were the result of true human tragedy. The single man killed in a car crash, the wife who died of cancer, or the 4H child struck with paralytic meningitis.
I encountered groups who struggle quietly and desperately to clean up the mess. There are formal organizations scattered across the United States dedicated each in their own way, each with their own philosophies focusing on trying to salvage the forgotten, or educate the public about the realities of llamas. These volunteers operate on shoestring budgets, minimal donations of funds and supplies, and struggle to clean up the messes left behind by others. Many times the mess is the poor forgotten couple who bought some llamas sometimes from a "well known breeder" sometimes just from 'Johnny across town" as pets and now don't know what to do. And many times, its 13 llamas or 6 llamas or 18 llamas or more than 40 llamas that have been forgotten by the world and just dumped, or walked away from.
There are also the little quiet people who just struggle in their own neighborhoods to do right, stumbling along on their own and trying to learn as they go.
There's Tracey and John, llama owners who drove by a slaughter house and found 6, no 10, oops 13 llamas in the lot waiting to be purchased and slaughtered, and shelled out their personal funds to buy them and are now desperately working to find adoptive homes for these dumped animals. Some have been handled in the past, all are just "plain John llamas", and some have obviously been treated like the ' old junkyard dog'.
There's Tom who got a male and female pair of llamas from some folks who had llamas they allowed all the neighbor kids to chase and try to ride until they got bucked off, who doesn't know what to do with the intact male constantly attacking him when he approaches the pregnant female.
There's Reza, who sort of inherited a group of llamas, and emus and pigeons and chickens, and goats and ducks and geese and doesn't know what to do, reaching out for help trying to find good homes.
Like all animal related businesses, the world of llamas has show gatherings full of pomp and circumstance designed to spotlight the best the world of llamas has created. BUT, with creation comes a moral imperative and responsibility to remember that someday the mules will get too old to pull a plow, and something better will come along. The parts of our past that got us where we are still need to be cared for, not merely hidden off in a corner or discarded for the sake of convenience. There's a responsibility to ensure the animal you chose to create finds a place in this world that provides the dignity and respect it deserves. There's a responsibility to make certain the animal has been properly trained. There's a responsibility to make certain the people who are buying your animal have also been properly trained and that they have the resources and continual access to mentoring as needed. But that's a different tale for others to tell.
There will always be rescues regardless of the animal, regardless of the laws, regardless of all the hand wringing at llama gatherings. There will always be a Henry somewhere, maggoty and dying, and taken to auction only because he was in a herd of males and got attacked and why bother after all there's more where he came from.
Do something, anything.
Find a spot for one more llama on your farm, not one that adds value, or can be used to improve you herd, or your point standings, just one more "plain Jane llama". Believe me, it feels great to be able to say 'today I made a difference'.
Take the coin jar and send it to an organization of your choice. Find the old halters and leads and mail them off.
Shout FOUL about the folks who are adding to the problem. Don't whisper it in the motel rooms after the llama shows have ended; don't whimper it on the chat rooms and email lists.
SHOUT it out to the public who are not part of the world of llamas.
Make the public aware of the joy and majesty every llama has within it.
Make every prospective buyer aware of the moral imperative that is required when choosing to own another living being.
Be there ALWAYS for your customers.
Make the public aware of the 'bad apples' breeding with no purpose other than to fund more breeding. Point fingers, name names.
TAKE BACK THE LLAMA WHO HASN'T FIT IN ITS NEW HOME!!!
To the multitudes of llama owners who have always recognized the need to be responsible for your actions and have acted in the best interest of animal and business and see no conflicts between the two - I want to thank you personally and think your actions should be shouted loud and proud by the entire llama community.
To the special people who have helped my family and me with our llamas, and have shown us their power and spirit, thank you.
To all the special people who quietly or not so quietly fight daily to clean up the messes others have made, thank you.
To those of you who have gotten half way through this article and decided I'm just another crackpot… I wish you had known my grandfather.
And that's the tale I chose to tell.
And so in rememberance and dedication to the people and the animals whose lives will be forever entwined with ours, no matter where the future leads:
Gary and Chloe and the Llama Loves of our Lives
www.roadsendllamas.com
Olympia WA
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